


Just A Scratch

by Alexiel (Stormess)



Series: Supernatural Imagines [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 01:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12948816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormess/pseuds/Alexiel
Summary: Prompt: You're forced to work a case with Mick, and things don't go as you had originally planned.





	Just A Scratch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RaeVan87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeVan87/gifts).



> This is un-beta'd, so please forgive any grammatical errors that may be present. Also, my first time writing Mick, so apologies if he's ooc! Fic is cross-posted on my tumblr.
> 
> DO NOT POST THIS WORK ONTO ANY OTHER SITE OR APP. DOING SO IS STEALING EVEN IF YOU CREDIT ME FOR IT BECAUSE I WILL NEVER AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO REPOST MY WORKS.

 

“Son of a bitch!” It was such a Dean line, but it was exactly what the situation called for as you watched the vampire collide with Mick. Which was ironic actually, because you'd told him explicitly to _stay in the fucking car_ until you called for him. This was why you hated having partners, or to be more specific, you hated having partners who didn't know shit about hunting. And this one, oh boy, this one was a desk jockey if you'd ever seen one, he had no business out here trying to hunt with you. Your (e/c) eyes narrowed as you took off running toward the tangle of limbs that was Mick trying desperately to keep from being bitten.

 

Without hesitation, you grabbed a handful of hair and yanked the vampire's head back in the same motion as your machete swung down to sever his head from the rest of his body. Giving the body a hard kick, you pushed it off of Mick, giving it a disgusted look before turning your eyes to him. He looked about as shaken up as a beer that rolled down a flight of stairs. And speaking of that, you really wanted a drink right now.

 

“You..you saved my life, Y/N.” He managed as he shifted a little to get up from the ground, wincing when he moved his left leg. Of course, he'd hurt himself, why were you not surprised about this, exactly?

 

“If you had done what I told you, I wouldn't have had to save your ass.” You snapped back at him as you took a bottle of lighter fluid out of your coat pocket. Part of you was ready to douse him in it and light him up as well, but you managed to restrain yourself. Barely.

 

Dousing the corpse in the lighter fluid, you stepped back and took a book of matches out of your other pocket as Mick struggled to his feet. He was watching you, you could feel it, as you struck the match and then tossed it onto the body. The flames leapt high before settling down a little and you finally turned your attention back to the man at your side.

 

“Look, Y/N, I thought you needed my help. I'm sorry I didn't stay in the car, but I couldn't bloody well let that beast kill you.” Mick offered in his defense as those green met your (e/c) ones, almost like he was begging you not to be angry with him. Oh for the love of Chuck, why had Dean even thought this was a remotely good idea? Not like it really mattered now, the job was done and you could haul ass back to the bunker, first thing in the morning.

 

For now though, Mick _was_ wounded, and you couldn't just let him suffer...could you? Fuck, no you couldn't, or Dean would throw a hissy fit the second you returned with a maimed Mick in tow. Sighing heavily, you shook your head and leaned down to wipe your machete off on the grass, “If you want to be a hunter, I suggest you start listening better. This isn't the same as reading it on reports, Davies. Out here I'm the one in the lead, you do whatever the hell I tell you to do.”

 

His eyebrows raised a little at the bite in your voice, but he didn't argue with it, instead only nodding his understanding. It wasn't often that Mick argued with you, not even your brawls with Ketch had caused the man to so much as open his mouth about it. Then again, that didn't surprise you, Ketch was a bastard and there was no hiding that you two hated each other. Stepping between the two of you might well be a suicide mission for anyone but Dean.

 

Sheathing your now clean machete, you reached out and took his arm, earning a surprised look from the Brit as your eyes met again. Not offering to explain yourself, you threw his arm over your shoulders and started back toward the car with him. He came along easily, and to your surprise, he didn't make a single sound of discomfort as you helped him over and opened the door for him.

 

Letting go of him, you pointed at the glove compartment, “There's a bottle in there, drink it.” Now he looked skeptical about it and opened his mouth, only to close it when you spoke up again, “I'm not taking any chances with you turning into one of those things. You're bleeding, I cut his head off, blood everywhere. I think you catch my drift.” Shifting a little, he slid comfortably into the seat of the Bentley and popped the glove box open, “Thank you, I don't fancy turning into one of the monsters.”

 

Snorting at his relieved sounding comment, you closed his door and walked around to the driver's side, opening the door and sliding in. Closing it behind you, you started the car and casually glanced over at him, “Don't thank me yet, Davies. You're bleeding all over the car, and that means you're going to need stitches when we get back.” Every moment he was making stopped instantly and you had to bite your bottom lip to keep from laughing at the absolutely horrified look on his face.

 

He looked back down at the bottle in his hand after you pulled out onto the road, simply eyeing it for a moment before he popped the cork and tossed it back. For a brief moment you thought he might throw up, but he seemed to recover after a few gasps of air. Thank Chuck for that one, you didn't want to have to ride around in the car while it reeked of vomit. Settling into the seat, you draped your wrist over the steering wheel, feeling his eyes on you even though you couldn't see him in the darkness of the car.

 

“Something you want, Davies?” You asked after a few minutes of silence and his staring, it bothered you when people looked at you too long. His eyes moved away and you heard him shift before he sighed a little, “Why do you hate me? I know that I did some questionable things, Y/N, but I'm on your side.” Raising an eyebrow, you risked a quick glance at him before refocusing on the road. You wanted to lash out at him about Sam, Mary and Dean. About all those innocent people that Ketch murdered that he did nothing to stop, and yet you knew you couldn't.

 

The boys had, at least somewhat, forgiven him and were willing to work with him. You were the only one who was still completely against the entire idea of having either of them around. Pressing the gas pedal a little harder, you rolled your tongue over your bottom lip before breathing out a little sigh, “You and that bastard Ketch nearly took away the only family I have left.”

 

Swallowing back the old anger and pain, you slid your hand down to tightly grip the steering wheel as you drove along the deserted road, “You don't know how many times we've all given up everything to save this world. I've faced down things you couldn't imagine, I've died and come back again. So forgive me for not being all warm and fuzzy after the shit you and your friends put me through.”

 

You could feel the tears sting your eyes, but you refused to let them fall, not in front of Mick. Clearing your throat, you did your best to pull yourself together again, hoping that he'd at least gotten the message this time. And after a few minutes of silence, it seemed that he had given up on conversation for the moment. It suited you just fine as you reached out and flicked the radio on, turning it to a station you liked. The sound of the music relaxed you as you drove, thankful that for the moment at least, Mick was done talking.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Pulling into the parking space at the hotel, you cut the engine off and opened the door, sliding out and closing it behind you. Walking around the car to the passenger side, you were mildly impressed when Mick levered himself out of the car. His hands clutched at the door and the roof of the car as he stood there, almost defiantly. Ducking your head, you went under his arm and took hold of him to help him away from the car so he could close the door. That done, you helped him to the door of the room you were, unfortunately, sharing for the duration of the trip.

 

Mick rested against your side as you took out the key and unlocked the door, slipping said key into your back pocket before taking hold of him again. Leading him inside, you kicked the door closed and helped him over to the bed before letting go so he could sit down. Grabbing your bag from the foot of the bed, you dropped it beside him and dug through it until you found the first aid kit you carried. Dragging a chair over, you positioned it in front of him and then sat down, meeting those green eyes over the short distance.

 

“You're gonna have to take those off.” You said as you motioned to the dress slacks he had on, earning a shocked look and an instant rush of color to his cheeks. For the first time since you'd met him, Mick Davies looked absolutely scandalized at your words, “Excuse me?” Sighing a little, you leaned back in the chair, “The pants, they need to come off if you want me to stitch that up.” He really looked like he was considering just letting it bleed as opposed to being in front of you with his pants down, literally.

 

There was complete silence for a couple minutes before he finally swallowed and struggled up to his feet in front of you. Standing back up with him, you reached out and held onto him as he reached for his belt, purposely not looking at you right now. Huh, that was interesting, he was acting like he was shy. If you admitted it to yourself, seeing Mick blushing was definitely interesting, and he wasn't exactly unattractive either. Shaking that thought from your mind, you glanced down to watch his hands unto his belt, hesitating before he popped the button free.

 

Lifting your eyes up to his face, you were a little surprised to see him watching you intently, though he glanced away after a few seconds. The rustling of cloth drew your attention and you helped him sit down now that his pants were around his ankles. Sitting back down in the chair, you leaned down and helped him get his shoes off, followed by the pants. Pulling the chair forward a little more, you sat the first aid kit beside him and opened it up, taking out some cotton pads and antiseptic. “I'm not entirely comfortable with this, Y/N...shouldn't I have a doctor have a go at this instead?”

 

Rolling your eyes, you tipped some antiseptic onto one of the pads before reaching out and gently starting to clean away the blood around the wound, “Do you want to explain how you got injured? Or do you not trust me?” You could feel him tense and glanced up to see him looking at you with an intensity he didn't usually possess, “I never said I didn't trust you, but this isn't...fuck!” Even you jumped at the sudden outburst from him, your (e/c) eyes a little wide as you gazed at him. It hadn't ever crossed your mind that he would let something like that slip past his lips.

 

You realized, after a moment or two, that he definitely wasn't used to being injured first of all, and had zero experience being treated in the field. “My apologies..I didn't mean to speak like that in front of you.” His voice was tight, doing his best to hold back the pain he felt, and something inside you warmed toward him a little. Reaching back into the kit, you took out a small bottle and a syringe, holding them up to him, “It's a local anesthetic...I might have been holding out on you.”

 

Mick looked at the items and then back at you, frowning a little before he nodded, “If you wouldn't mind to administer it now?” Using your teeth, you took the cap off the syringe and stuck the needle into the top of the bottle, turning it upside down and drawing out a small dose. Putting the bottle down, you depressed the air out of the syringe before glancing up at him again, “I'm...I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner...it was a dick move.” He looked shocked and a little amused as you looked back down and chose a spot before injecting the medication. With a light touch, you massaged the area just a little to help speed things along, the feel of his muscles relaxing letting you know it was working.

 

You went back to work then, cleaning the wound and then sterilizing your needle before you started to stitch up the wound. Mick was watching you, you could feel it as you worked, making tight, neat stitches so that it wouldn't leave a bad scar. “You're quite good at that. I imagine the Winchesters must keep you busy.” His voice sounded deeper and you faltered a little, not daring to look up at him when he sounded like that. Something about the way he sounded now sent a little shiver of pleasure through you, no matter how much you wanted to keep hating him. That didn't mean he wasn't an attractive man, and that you weren't somehow getting turned on by all of this when you knew you shouldn't.

 

“Yeah, they're not exactly the careful type. But they have an angel most of the time.” You commented back as you focused on the stitches as much as possible. It didn't take long and you carefully tied off your work before cleaning and then bandaging the wound. Clearing your throat a little, you sat up and grabbed the kit, starting to put things away, “You should get a shower, the bandage is waterproof so you'll be okay there.” He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but only nodded and got up carefully, grabbing some of his clothes before going into the bathroom. It wasn't until the door closed that you relaxed and put everything away, wondering what the hell was wrong with you.

 

Oh sure, he'd been somewhat undressed just then, and of course he _was_ an attractive man to look at, but you'd never felt quite like this toward him. Shaking the thought from your mind for the moment, you put your things back in the bag and then pulled out some clothes to put on after your own shower. By the time Mick was done in the shower, you had picked up the room and cleaned your weapons. The cotton pants were slung low on his hips, and the t-shirt accented the body that suit had been hiding. Without a doubt, he looked hotter than any man you'd seen in a long time, and that was saying something.

 

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you stood up and grabbed your clothes, “I ordered some take out, if it gets here before I'm out, there's some cash on the table.” Before he could say anything else, you nearly dove into the bathroom and closed the door behind you.

 

What in Chuck's name was wrong with you exactly? Since when did Mick Davies become an object of sexual interest, especially without you noticing until this moment? Doing your best to put it out of your mind, you stripped down and stepped in the shower, hoping it would help relax you after the hunt. And it did it's job, the hot water relaxing your tense body until you were feeling somewhat human again. Once out and dried, you dressed in your sleeping pants and an old flannel shirt that you'd had since joining the Winchester ranks. Stepping out of the bathroom, you saw Mick at the table with the take out that had apparently just arrived from the looks of things.

 

Putting your dirty clothes into a separate bag, you walked over to the table and sat down, “I didn't know if you liked burgers, but it's kind of a thing after a hunt.” He sat down across from you and a smile tugged at his lips, “You Americans and your hamburgers. Shall I pass you a beer to go with that?” You knew he was being funny, and you rolled your eyes as you snatched up a fry and bit off some of it with a sigh of pleasure. There really was nothing in the world like a good fry, “Say what you want, Davies, but this is better than that high class junk you like to eat.”

 

He laughed, honest to Chuck, _laughed_ as he looked at you and reached over to take the other container of fries. And damn if you didn't feel your heart beat faster and wetness start to pool between your legs, his laugh was sexy as hell. “I don't always eat high class, as you call it. Even I indulge in this heart attack waiting to happen..what? What is it?” Tensing up, you realize that you've been staring at him and you can feel your cheeks trying to turn red, “Nothing, I was just thinking.” Glancing away, you dig into the burger and fries, hoping to just ignore him until you can get back to the bunker, even though you know it's going to be impossible now.

 

From the little glances you still shoot his way, he seems to be enjoying the food as much as you are, and is content not to talk much at the moment. Hunting had a way of doing that though, you were always ravenous after a hunt like that, and your body needed the calories now. When you were done, you tossed your trash into the trashcan on the other side of the table, taking a long drink of your water to wash it all down. Mick had finished too, clearing away his trash as he sipped at the brandy he'd brought with him. You started to walk by him, headed toward the chair in the corner to sleep in, when a strong, warm hand caught your wrist.

 

Whipping your head around, you met Mick's eyes, a lot closer than you had expected him to be when you turned around, “What is it...?” He seemed like he might just let this drop, but then you felt his hand tighten as those green eyes met yours, sending your heart on a roller coaster ride. “Y/N, I'm sorry for what we...for what I caused when I helped take Sam away.” Shaking your head, your lips parted to say something, but the warmth of his fingers against your mouth stopped you. Those fingers lingered for a moment before he slid them away and a shiver worked it's way through you.

 

Mick caught it that time and you saw the way his eyes darkened, your mind screaming at you to stop this before it even started. You didn't have a chance to think about it more as he pulled you up against his chest and his lips pressed against yours. It was shocking to say the least, that he had the balls to do this, but also that you hadn't punched the shit out of him for it. And you were really going to do just that, until you felt his hand curl into your hair and those warm lips press more urgently to your own, begging for a response.

 

A whimper left your throat, your lips parting beneath his to give him access, a low groan coming from him as his tongue swept inside to brush against yours. You responded to the kiss this time, hands dropping down to push beneath his shirt and slide over surprisingly firm abs. His hand tightened in your hair and it pulled a moan from you when he pulled to tilt your head back as his lips trailed down to your neck. Without a doubt, you should stop this while you still could, but his lips felt so good sliding over your bare skin. And even better was the bulge you felt when he pressed you closer against him, nearly making your knees go weak.

 

Turning the both of you, Mick backed you up to the bed and tipped you over onto it, following you down with a slight grunt of discomfort. Rational thought reared up and you turned your head away with a soft gasp, “Your leg, we can't..” His fingers slid through your hair as he nipped at your neck, your whole body shivering beneath him, “Just a scratch, love...but if you want to stop, I will.” Oh you should really stop him, but his body shifts and you feel the firmness of his cock press into your lower belly and rational thought commits suicide out the nearest window, “Don't...don't stop..” The words were soft, but Mick heard you and you could feel his smile against your neck as his hands tugged your pants down your hips and then off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

 

Desperate to have some control in this, you grasped his shirt and pulled it up until he raised up enough for you to slip it off and drop it to the side. The sight of his bare skin made more wetness collect between your thighs, he was so damn hot that it made you ache. His fingers slid over your still covered sex and you nearly came off the bed, “Davies!” That laugh again as he stroked over your panties a second time, your hips lifting up in search of more, “Given the circumstances, love...call me Mick.” Your mind instantly rejected that, saying his name made it too real, too wrong, a line you knew you shouldn't cross.

 

Another moan fell from your lips as he shoved your shirt up and leaned down to take a nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hard bud. Twisting just a little, you finished pulling the shirt up over your head, dropping it onto the floor to be forgotten. Sliding your hands up, you buried them in his hair, trying to pull him closer, to keep him there. Mick didn't fight it, letting you control things a little as he lavished attention on the nipple in his mouth before he pulled back enough to switch to the other. One of his hands slid up and grasped the waistband of your panties before starting to pull them down. You didn't fight him, lifting your hips up so he could pull them off and toss them aside. But once they were gone, he untangled himself from your hands and leaned back so he could look down at you.

 

“Oh Y/N...look at you, love. So wet for me already..and I thought you hated me.” His voice did things to you that you swore you'd never tell anyone else, but Mick saw the way you shivered, the way your body responded to his words. Before you could tell him no, he slid you further onto the bed and nudged your legs apart as he leaned in and licked a slow line along your sex. You bit your lip hard to keep from making a sound, hands flying down so your fingers could slide through his soft hair, using it to pull him closer. Instead of pulling away, he licked deeper, swiping his tongue over your clit as he reached up and pressed two, long fingers inside you.

 

A whimper left you as you tried to pull him closer, while at the same time lifting your hips up in a desperate search for more. It really had been a long time, and the reasons why you shouldn't be doing this with him were starting to disappear. With each flick of his tongue over your clit, each curl of his fingers inside you, he was driving you closer and closer to orgasm. Not that it was far away to begin with, not when you were finally getting someone else's touch on your body.

 

One curl of his fingers found your g-spot, dragging cry from your lips as your hands tightened in his hair, “Fuck! Don't stop..please don't stop..” A groan left Mick at those words, lifting his head away, but continuing to curl his fingers to hit that same spot every time. The look in his eyes was intense as he pushed you right to the edge before he pulled his fingers out, not letting you orgasm just yet. Your hands grabbed for him, desperate to find that release you had been so close to, “Davies, damnit! Please!”

 

He moved away, shedding his briefs before he joined you on the bed again, nudging his hips between your legs as his hands slid up to your waist, “Say my name, Y/N..” As he spoke, you felt his thick, hard cock press against your slick folds, so close to where you needed him, but not quite there yet. You tried to lift your hips up in a search for more, but his hands held you down against the bed, making it clear that you weren't getting what you wanted until he got what he wanted. To make things even harder, Mick started to rock his hips a little, sliding his cock against your slick as you squirmed beneath him, trying desperately to get him inside you.

 

Despite his appearance, he was stronger than you thought, easily holding you there beneath him until you were sure you couldn't stand it a second longer, “Mick!” As soon as his name left your lips, he stopped teasing, pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. As wet as you were, there was no resistance as he slid in easily, stretching you to fit him as he pushed deeper and deeper until he bottomed out, pressed tight against you with a groan that should have been illegal. His eyes were closed, fighting not to cum so soon and end this before it even started. You weren't in much better shape, clinging to him and struggling to move against him, needing that friction more than anything.

 

Thankfully, this time he didn't tease. He opened his eyes to look down at you as he braced himself with his arms on either side of you before pulling his hips back and then pressing them forward again. You tipped your head back against the bed, hands sliding to his lower back as you spread your legs wider for him, still so close to orgasm. Mick groaned as your hands pulled him closer, your walls slick and tight around him as he set a fast pace with his thrusts. He wasn't going to last long and he knew it, but then he also knew that you weren't going to last long either. It had been too long since you'd had sex, and even longer since you'd had _good_ sex.

 

With Mick though, no matter how much you wanted to deny it, this was absolutely the best thing you've felt in months, possibly even in the last year. Each thrust of his hips nearly had you whimpering as you clung to him, a little cry leaving your mouth when he shifted and changed the angle. Reaching down with one hand, he slipped it between your bodies, thumb finding your clit to rub quick, firm little circles in time with his thrusts.

 

Throwing your head back, you didn't bother to hide your moans anymore, it didn't matter because he was the only one who was going to hear you. You felt him tense up, your gaze turning up to him as his speed increased a little more, “Cum for me, Y/N...I want to feel you cum on my cock.” That was absolutely the hottest thing you've ever heard him say, and it had the desired effect. Mick rolled his tongue over his bottom lip as your body tensed up, back arching up from the bed as orgasm ripped through you. His name left your lips as your walls pulsed around his cock, hands grasping at him, trying to ground yourself as pleasure burned white-hot through your entire body.

 

You swore you were seeing stars as that pleasure overwhelmed you, and Mick never stopped his thrusts, drawing out that pleasure you were feeling. “Fuck...you're so beautiful when you cum for me, Y/N..” His words drew another whimper from you as he kept thrusting, though he faltered now and you could feel his urgency. Reaching up, you buried your hands in his hair and dragged him down for another kiss as he thrust deep one last time. Mick's arms wrapped around your body, holding you to him as his cock pulsed and a groan rumbled in his chest as he emptied himself inside you.

 

It felt good, almost too good if you were being honest with yourself. But none of that mattered as the two of you clung to each other, lips and tongues sliding against each other as Mick rolled the two of you over so you were resting on top of him. The kiss broke and you pushed up a little to look down at him, body still flushed and pupils blown wide from how good that was. He looked in a similar state as well, and you knew then that you would never get this night out of your head. Ever.

 

Mick watched you quietly, reaching up to brush some of your hair away from your face, causing you to blush despite your best efforts not to. He didn't say anything about it though, which you were thankful for as this was already awkward enough. Though he seemed to sense that as he tugged you down to press a soft, sweet kiss against your lips that had you melting in against his chest. Sighing contentedly into the kiss, you returned it with one of your own until you both felt the need to break it again. One of his hands combed through your hair as the two of you locked eyes, “Do you still hate me, Y/N?”

 

Tipping your head into his hand, you held his gaze as you shook your head a little, seeing the way he relaxed as soon as he had confirmation that he wasn't a dead man now. Leaning back in, you gave his lips a soft peck before lifting yourself up off of him carefully, instantly missing the feel of him inside you. Shaking that feeling off, you moved to lay on your side next to him, pillowing your head against his chest, “I think I might like you, Mick..just a little..” Mick laughed softly and curled one arm around you, turning his head a bit to kiss the top of your head, “I believe I may fancy you as well, Y/N.” Biting back a smile, you draped one arm around his waist and settled down to get some rest. This wasn't exactly how you had thought the case would work out, but you weren't going to complain either.

 

**Author's Note:**

> DO NOT POST THIS WORK ONTO ANY OTHER SITE OR APP. DOING SO IS STEALING EVEN IF YOU CREDIT ME FOR IT BECAUSE I WILL NEVER AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO REPOST MY WORKS.


End file.
